


To be Happy

by consult_this_prick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Slow Burn, Teacherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25043008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consult_this_prick/pseuds/consult_this_prick
Summary: After John and Sherlock establish a secret relationship under the rules of the school, a coworker comes after them, determined to shatter their happiness. Their relationship becomes a struggle once a decision they can't change is brought upon them.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

The corridor was empty as John walked through it. All the students were at lunch, leaving the teachers to venture about and to gossip about what and who. John made his way to the music room, his lunch in hand as he opened the door, hearing the scream of a violin then the sound of metal crashing down onto the floor. He walked into the office of the music teacher to see sheet music scattered about and a distressed teacher standing with his violin in hand, by his side.

“How’s it going then?” John asked with a grin, setting his lunch down on the cluttered desk.

“I hate it. Why did I sign up for this? I don’t know why I chose to do this, why did I?” he looked at John.

“You love your students and want to please them.”

“Hmm, right. Sentiment.” Sherlock set his violin in the case along with the bow. He walked to his desk, dropping down into his chair. 

John looked at the sheet music on the floor. “You’re not going to clean that up?”

“Can you?” Sherlock gave him a soft, pleading look.

John shook his head, kneeling down to pick up the scattered music. “You’re almost done. There’s a lot of scribbles though.”

“I tend to not like what I compose.”

“Obviously.” John stood, picking up the music stand. He set the music on the stand then turned to see Sherlock eating his lunch. “Oi, what the hell? Sherlock!”

“I’m hungry!”

“That’s why you pack your own lunch,” John sighed. “Just don’t eat it all, please.”

Sherlock took one last, large bite before handing the sandwich over to John. 

John scowled at Sherlock, taking the half-eaten sandwich. He looked at it before taking a bite and setting it down in its container. 

“Do you have anything else?” Sherlock asked, grabbing the lunch box that belongs to the English teacher. 

John ripped it out of his grip. “Not for you.”

“Then can I have the rest of your sandwich?”

“Have at it.” John set his lunch box down and grabbed a chair, pulling it up to the cluttered desk.  
“So,” Sherlock started as he typed something into his computer, “there is an orchestra I’m quite fond of performing this Saturday and I was wondering if you would like to join me.” 

John sat still, his face bleeding red. “As a date?”

Sherlock looked at John. “Nevermind. It was a stupid idea anyway.” he cleared his throat, taking a bite of the sandwich as he turned back to his computer.

John looked into his lap, thinking about what Sherlock had just said. What Sherlock had just asked him. All John has been able to think about this school year is the man who just attempted to ask him out on a date and John ruined it. Maybe not. He could fix it. 

John cleared his throat, “A date sounds nice.” He looked up from his lap, giving a timid smile. 

“Really?” Sherlock looked at John, a smile on his face.

“I’ve always wanted to see a live orchestra. And have a date with Sherlock Holmes.”

“Great. I’ll, uh, order the tickets.” Sherlock set the last of the sandwich down, looking back at his computer, his smile still resting on his face.

Now he can’t stay. He’ll say something stupid or embarrassing and ruin the chance right after he got it. 

John stood up. “I’ll talk with you later, yea?”

“Where are you going?”

“Just got some work to catch up on before next period.” John stepped back until he hit the door.

“Don’t forget your lunch box.” 

“Right.” John grabbed his lunch box before leaving the office of the music teacher in a hurry. He left the music room and practically sprinted down the hall to the art teacher. He burst into the room, closing the door behind him then made a b-line for the woman sitting at the desk. 

“What is wrong with you?” she asked, looking at the English teacher.

“I have a date Saturday. With Sherlock.” 

“What?”

“Sherlock asked me out.”

“John, this is amazing.”

“I know!” John walked to one of the tables, pulling out a chair and sitting down. 

“So, where are you and Holmes going this Saturday evening.”

“He invited me to see an orchestra with him.”

“Lame.”

“I can’t help it that he is obsessed with music, Irene.”

“Is dinner involved? Wine? Anything that has to do with an evening that will end up with a nice shag?”

John rolled his eyes. “Irene.”

“Holmes is one sexy lad!” she defended. “It’s only natural that he would be good in bed.”

“Okay, well, this is our first date and I am not like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know.”

Irene grinned, giving John a wink.

“But seriously, Irene. All I’ve done is talk about how gorgeous he is since he started this year.”

“I know. I had to listen to you go on and on. Sometimes I thought about locking you in the supply closet just for some peace and quiet.”

John scoffed, “What if it goes horribly?” 

“Considering both of you are complete idiots and it has taken four months of flirting and drooling over one another to finally have a date, I am sure the date will go great. Sherlock is a great guy anyway, I’m positive he will do anything to make it a memorable night for the both of you. Even if it doesn’t end with both of you shagging.”

“Can you please stop thinking about Sherlock and I having sex?” 

“I’m just saying.”

“And you’ve said enough.”

“Fine,” Irene sighed. “But, I will come over Saturday evening to help you pick out what to wear then I will send you off with a kiss and a hug to your first ever date.” 

“You can be a real pain sometimes.” John stood up.

“Oh, you love it.”

“Sometimes.”

Irene gave John a timid smile, “I know you do Johnny.”

“What did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Go eat your lunch before you get even pissier.”

John rolled his eyes, leaving the art room, and going to his own room. He smiled to himself as he thought about Saturday and what it would be like to finally have a date with the man he has had a massive crush since he started teaching at the school. 

When the day ended, John stayed after to clean up the mess his students left behind, putting books back where they belonged and picking up balls of paper that kids threw at each other. He never understood why they threw things at each other, but they still got all their work done so John was okay with it. The English teacher packed his laptop and papers he needed to grade into his satchel before leaving his room. To his surprise, a certain music teacher was walking his way.

“Hey,” John smiled, closing his classroom door.

“Hi.” Sherlock stood in front of John, his violin case in hand. “I was wondering if I could walk you home.”

“Yea, that’s okay.” 

Sherlock smiled then glanced down at his feet. “Shall we go then?”

“Right.” John started walking, Sherlock right beside him. 

They left the school and started down the busy streets of London, most people out were students enjoying their free time before having to return home. Sherlock walked close to John’s side, keeping their conversation afloat as he followed the small man to his flat. 

Sherlock would glance at the blond whenever he spoke, completely in awe of him. The man amazed Sherlock. Just him breathing, Sherlock would die for him. He was thrilled that he finally mustered up the courage to ask him this weekend because John has been on his mind 24/7. The looks he would give him or the way he could talk for hours about a certain subject, how his nose crinkled when he laughed, the crooked grin he would give when Sherlock would say something that was humorous to him, his cream-colored jumpers, his tan skin. The list could go on for ages for Sherlock and each new detail would be more amazing than the last.

“This is me,” John said when they reached his building.

“Right, then.” Sherlock looked at the building. “This is where I will be picking you up Saturday?”

“Yea. Just buzz for me.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to make you a sandwich? Because I was quite hungry for the rest of the day.”

“How about I make you a sandwich.”

“Do you know how?”

“I’m sure I am capable of putting cold cuts between two slices of bread.”

“With mustard. And some cheese if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

John gave Sherlock a timid smile. “I expect a sandwich of a lifetime tomorrow.”

“And what if it doesn’t meet your expectations?”

John gave a shrug. “We’ll see.”

Sherlock chuckled, “Have a good evening, John.”

“You, too.” John took his keys out of his pocket before turning around and walking up to the front door. He turned and gave Sherlock a smile, getting one in return which made John panic. He turned back to the door a fiddled with his keys, his hands shaking a bit as he could still feel the eyes of the music teacher on him. The keys slipped out of his hands and landed on the step, causing John to mutter under his breath. He leaned down to pick up his keys, noticing that Sherlock was still there. 

John managed to pick out the right key and shoved it into the lock, turning it and opening the door. He turned and gave Sherlock a panicked smile before stepping into the building and closing the door. 

“You’re a right idiot,” John muttered to himself as he leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. 

Sherlock huffed a laugh as he started his walk home. Who knew John would get so flustered? And who gave him the right to be so adorable when it happened?


	2. Chapter 2

“Lose the tie. It’s a date, not a parent conference.” Irene said as she looked over John’s outfit. 

John loosened the tie, pulling it over his head and tossing it on his bed. “Is it alright?” he looked at himself in the full length mirror by his cupboard, smoothing out the maroon jumper that had a light grey button-up tucked underneath. 

Irene got up from the bed, walking to the English teacher. She ruffled his hair a bit, styling his blond hair with a few grey streaks to the left. “That should do it.” she took a step back. “Glasses?” 

“Irene, no.” 

“Come on! You look devilish in them. Plus Sherlock has never seen you in them,” she gave him a sly smirk. 

John huffed out a laugh. “I suppose a night out will be fine.” he walked around Irene to his bathroom. He switched his contacts for his boston frame glasses, looking at himself in the mirror. He turned the faucet on, getting his hand a bit wet and running it through his hair, fixing what Irene had done. There wasn’t much to look at in the mirror to John, but Sherlock and Irene thought differently. He gave himself a reassuring nod that he could do it before walking out of the bathroom. 

“That is what I am talking about.” Irene looked over John’s outfit. “Holmes won’t know what hit him.” 

John inhaled deeply, “I just hope everything goes alright. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of him. What if I say something stupid during the concert?”

“You have no experience with music. I’m sure Sherlock would understand the asking of stupid questions.” 

“I just won’t ask any questions then.” 

“You can’t go the whole night without asking questions.” 

“I just won’t ask during the concert.” 

Irene chuckled. “If you held in all your questions, your beautiful round head would pop off your body.” 

“My head isn’t round. And I could just Google it.”

“It’s more of a round square shape. Also, you can’t Google questions in front of Sherlock, that will really make you look stupid.”

John sighed, falling back onto his bed. His body went rigged as the buzzer for his apartment went off. “Oh my God. He’s here.” 

Irene grabbed John by his wrists, pulling him up and off the bed. “Everything will go fine,” Irene said as she pushed him out of his room and to the sitting room. “Now, do you have your phone, keys, wallet?” 

“All in my Coat.” 

Irene took John’s coat off the hook, handing it to him. 

John put on his coat, “Please don’t embarrass him when we walk out of here.”

“Can’t promise that. I have to say whatever comes to mind.”

“Irene. This is our first date. I don’t want him angry over something you said.” 

“Fine.” Irene opened the door. “Your prince awaits.” 

John rolled his eyes, walking out before Irene. He opened the door to his building seeing Sherlock standing there with a small bouquet of English primrose. 

“My landlady has quite the green hand,” Sherlock handed John the flowers. 

“Thank you. They’re beautiful,” John smiled at Sherlock, receiving a smile in return. 

“Where’s mine?” Irene asked, ruining the moment. 

John turned, scowling her. “Seriously?” he whispered harshly. 

“Irene, why don’t you put those in a vase for John?” Sherlock asked. “We have dinner to eat before the show.” 

“Yes, Irene, why don’t you do that?” John asked, handing the flowers to Irene. “Thanks,” he said before meeting Sherlock on the sidewalk. He gave her a small wave before starting to walk with Sherlock. 

“Sorry, I asked her not to say anything smart.” 

“It’s fine. Really. It’s just the way she’s wired.” 

John huffed out a laugh. “So where are we eating?” 

“A favorite of mine. Hopefully, you don’t mind walking, it’s just another block away.” Sherlock glances down at him. 

“Walking is fine. It is a nice night.” 

Sherlock hummed in agreement as they kept walking. 

The restaurant was small and crowded, there were no open tables but one by the window. John felt concerned that they wouldn’t be able to be seated, but he knew Sherlock had a plan once he saw the small card that read, reserved on it. Of course, Sherlock had a plan. It’s their first date, he wouldn’t let anything go wrong. 

“Sherlock!” a big man bellowed, reaching out to give Sherlock a handshake. “So nice to see you!” 

“You too, Angelo.” 

“Right here, best seat in the house.” he directed them to the empty table. “For you and your date.” he gave a smile to John. 

John smiled timidly back, feeling his cheeks get warm.

“I’ll be back with menus,” Angelo said then left the two. 

Sherlock pulled the chair out for John, watching him strip off his jacket before he sat down. Sherlock took off his own jacket, putting it on the back of his chair before sitting down. 

“How do you know him?” John asked. 

“I introduced him to his wife.” 

“Really?” 

Sherlock nodded. “At my old school, the choir teacher and I would come here for lunch every so often and Angelo had pulled me aside one day and asked if I could help him get a date with her so we started going almost every day until Angelo finally asked her out. Now they’ve been married for two years.” 

“I’m eating dinner with cupid.” 

Two menus were placed in front of them. “Wine?” Angelo asked. 

Sherlock looked at John. John gave him a nod in response then watched Sherlock speak to Angelo. 

After the wine was poured and meals were ordered, the talk started. John was nervous to talk to Sherlock even though he spoke to him every day. This was a date. It was different. They were no longer friends talking at lunch, they were potential partners having dinner. 

“You look fantastic tonight.” Sherlock smiled at John, “Not saying that you never look fantastic, it’s just,” Sherlock sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“I get it. You look great yourself.” John said, admiring the royal purple shirt under Sherlock’s grey blazer. The way the fabric hugged his skin and the buttons were just screaming under pressure. “New shirt?” 

“Perhaps,” Sherlock grinned. It was that half ass grin that would make John forget how to breathe and Sherlock knew it had that effect. He would do it because he knew he was a handsome devil that everyone drooled over. 

After dinner was finished, they walked outside and Sherlock had hailed a cab. “We wouldn’t make it in time if we walked,” he said to John as he opened the door. 

“That’s alright,” John said then got into the cab. 

Once they got to the theater, Sherlock got out first then held a hand out for John. John took his hand and got out of the cab, stepping to the side and watching Sherlock pay the cabbie. Sherlock turned back to John, smiling at him.

“Shall we go in?” 

John gave a nod and they followed the herd of people walking in. The inside was just like a basic theater. John didn’t know why he thought it would look different. He followed Sherlock to the doors that led into the house, standing in a short line while an Usher was scanning people’s tickets and where the seat would be. 

Sherlock took the two tickets out of his wallet, giving them to the Usher. He returned them with a smile, informing Sherlock where the seats were, but Sherlock just gave a nod, putting his hand on the small of John’s back and directing him into the house, ignoring the last few words from him.

“I don’t think he gets paid enough to deal with people like you,” John said, looking up at the taller man.

Sherlock glanced at him. “I don’t need him to tell me what I already know.”

John scoffed.

“Seats. Right here.” Sherlock pointed to two empty next to another couple.

“Maybe you should become an Usher. You’d be fantastic at it.” John said as he sat next to the woman who was wearing way too much perfume.

Sherlock sat next to him. “I wouldn’t get paid enough to deal with people like me.”

John chuckled. “You’re a right arse sometimes, you know that?”

Sherlock looked at John. “I know. It’s delightful isn’t it?”

“Very.”

Sherlock grinned and looked at his watch. “Should be starting in three minutes.”

“Will you be silent those three minutes?”

“Oh, I see how it is.”

“Do you?”

Sherlock nodded, turning his attention to the stage.

John laughed softly. “This you is much more tolerable. Shame you can’t be like this all the time.” 

Sherlock didn’t even look at him, he just kept his focus on the stage.

“Ow!” John exclaimed softly, “Did you just pinch me?”

Sherlock gave a shrug.

“Sir, I would appreciate it if you would quiet down some.” the lady next to John spoke.

John felt his face become hot. “Of course. Sorry ‘bout that.” he gave her a friendly smile then looked at Sherlock who was laughing softly. He smacked Sherlock’s chest with the back of his hand. “That was your fault,” he whispered.

“You were the one talking too loud.” 

John shook his head, looking at the stage as the lights started to dim and everyone became silent. A hefty man walked out on stage and began talking. He relaxed in his seat, not paying attention to the man and focusing on his surroundings. There was a moment when Sherlock’s hand brushed up against his. He looked at the stage, his vision unfocused as Sherlock’s hand continued to get closer before slipping underneath John’s, lacing their fingers together. A timid smile appeared on his face as he looked at their hands then at Sherlock, who was looking right back at him.

They stood outside John’s building, the nightlife hustling around them.

“I had a good time,” John said as he let go of Sherlock’s hand.

“As did I. Perhaps there is another date in the future?”

“Perhaps.”

“I’ll see you Monday then,” Sherlock said, leaning in to give John a kiss on the cheek, but John moved just in time so that their lips connected for a quick second before Sherlock pulled away and looked down at John who was smiling like a fool.

“We have to end the date properly.” John stepped closer.

Sherlock chuckled, cupping the smaller man’s face in his hands as he leaned in and kissed him.

They pulled apart abruptly when the door opened and a group of girls came pouring out, separating the two men on the doorstep. When they passed, the two met in the middle again.

“G’night, Sherlock.” John smiled. Sherlock stood there in complete aw, still processing what just happened.

“Night John.” He tucked his hands in his coat pockets, watching John go into his building. The music teacher waited until he saw the light of the second-floor window turn on. After that, he started his walk home, replaying the kiss in his head over and over again.


	3. Chapter 3

The following Monday, John entered the school with a smile on his face. He walked passed the music room, noticing the lights were off and knew that Sherlock wasn’t in yet. Instead of waiting, he made his way to his own classroom, starting to prepare everything for the day. 

A few minutes before classes started, Sherlock sunk into John’s classroom, startling the teacher by hugging him from behind.

“Sherlock!” John exclaimed softly.

“Morning to you too.”

“Don’t do that. I thought you were a student.”

“Sorry. Just popping in to see you.” 

“And I appreciate that just promise not to scare me next time.”

“Alright.” Sherlock smiled down at John. 

“Look, happy feet, I have to pass these out before the kids come in.” John pushed passed Sherlock, only to be grabbed by the waist and pulled back to the taller man.

“Can I have a kiss?”

“The bell is about to ring.” 

“Please.”

“Sherlock, we know the reality of this.”

Sherlock sighed. “Fine.” he let go of John.

“Why don’t you come by tonight and I will make us dinner?” John started to put papers on empty desks again.

“What time?” a smile grew on Sherlock’s face.

“Seven,” John said, then the bell rang. “Now get to your room.” 

Sherlock gave John a wink before hurrying out of the English teacher’s classroom.

John scoffed and shook his head at the man, wondering how long they could keep their relationship a secret. The school had a policy of teachers dating one another, especially ones of the same gender. He took a deep breath and changed the topic in his head as he heard the students coming into his room.

After the halls were empty and John got the last of his grading done, he grabbed his things and checked his watch. He had three hours to make diner and get ready for Sherlock coming over. The first thing on his mental checklist was to stop at the shops on his way home. He had already decided on making Shepherds pie. Surely, Sherlock will enjoy it, he enjoyed just about anything that John made for his lunch.

Once the shopping was done, John went home with two hours to spare. His flat was always kept clean, anything out of place made John feel out of place. He went around and tidy some things up, fluffing the pillows on the sofa and straightening the books out on his shelf. Everything had to be perfect for Sherlock. Nothing could be out of place.

The cooking began once John put on one of his many Beatles records, setting the mood in his kitchen. He sang along softly as he prepped dinner. Once the pie was in the oven, John hurried to change and get ready, only having a little over a half-hour to get ready. He shredded off his clothes and got into the shower for a quick second, washing the day and the mashed potatoes off of him. There was no time to coordinate an outfit, so John put on the first jumper he saw and a clean pair of jeans.

The sound of the buzzer rang through John’s flat, making him jump. He quickly put on his other shoe then ran out to the kitchen, pushing the button and letting Sherlock in. The two minutes Sherlock had to walk up to John’s flat, John collected himself, taking a deep breath and taking a final look around, making sure everything was right, but it wasn’t. He forgot to set the table.

Sherlock knocked softly on the door.

“Just a second!” John shouted, deciding if he should set the table or make Sherlock wait. He groaned and opened the door.

“I thought you would be happier to see me,” Sherlock said, looking at John who had a mixture of emotions running through him.

John sighed, “I forgot to set the table. Everything is supposed to be perfect and I forgot to do the one thing that mattered the most.”

Sherlock could see the distress in John. “It’s alight, love.”

“It’s really not.” John sighed, rubbing his face. “You got me flowers.”

“Yea.” Sherlock handed the small bouquet to John. “I just thought you would like them since you liked the ones I gave you Saturday.”

John took the bouquet, his mood changing. “I love them. Thank you.” he finally stepped to the side to let Sherlock in, closing the door behind him.

“What smells so good?”

“Shepard’s pie. It’s got a bit more before it’s ready.” John went to the cupboard under his sink and dug out a vase. He felt Sherlock’s eyes on him so he turned around. “Look around. Do the little deduction thing you always do.”

Sherlock chuckled, moving from the kitchen and into the living room. He went to the bookshelf where John’s record player sat and took off the Beatles record, turning it over to the other side then placing the needle on it.

“Do you like the Beatles?” John asked.

Sherlock turned to the English teacher, watching him grab plates from a higher cupboard. “Of course I do, I have a degree in music.” He looked down at the coffee table to see the partially wilted primrose he had given to John. He turned back to the bookshelf, looking at how all his books were alphabetized by author and there was not a single trace of dust anywhere.

“I would prefer if you didn’t act so smart with me tonight.” John went to the small table he had, putting the plates down.

“Oh, yea?” Sherlock grinned, looking back at John.

“Yes.” John went back into the kitchen, grabbing the vase he had put the flowers in a setting it in the center of the table.

“What will you do if I keep on?”

“Seeing it is my flat, maybe kick you out.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Don’t test me.”

Sherlock huffed out a laugh as he walked to John, “I still want that kiss from earlier.”

“Do you?”

Sherlock hummed as he pulled John to him.

“So needy,” John muttered, his lips meeting with Sherlock’s.   
The timer went off ruining the moment between them, but Sherlock wouldn’t let go of John.

“I have to get it. I don’t want dinner to burn.”

“We don’t have to eat.” Sherlock leaned in for another kiss but John put his hand in front of his mouth.

“I have to eat,” John pushed Sherlock’s face away. “I’m not like you.” he turned and went into the kitchen, turning the timer off.

Sherlock watched John put on oven mitts then take the pie out of the oven, setting it on the stovetop. “Do you want me to do anything?”

John shook his head. “You’re my guest. Just sit down.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I am positive.” John looked at Sherlock and gave him a smile.

Sherlock returned the smile then went to the table, taking a seat. He watched John make sure the pie was thoroughly cooked before he brought it over to the table, setting it next to the flowers then hurried back into the kitchen. The small man hurried about the kitchen, grabbing two wine glasses along with cutlery before bringing it back to the table. 

“I can help. I’m not completely useless.”

“It’s fine.” John went back into the kitchen one last time and grabbed a bottle of wine, opening it before bringing it out. He started to pour Sherlock a glass, but Sherlock stopped him and took the bottle.

“Sit down.”

“I got it.”

“Sit down and let me do this.” he stood.

John knew he wasn’t going to win and took his seat, watching Sherlock pour him a glass then pouring himself one. 

“Believe it or not, but I am actually very helpful,” Sherlock spoke and he scooped out a bit of the pie, placing it on John’s plate.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Sherlock scooped out his bit then sat down.  
“You can be a bit of an arse sometimes,” John took a swig of his wine. “All the time, actually.”

“If you can’t handle it I’m sure someone else can.”

John smiled, “I’m the only one who can put up with you and your nonsense.”

“It’s only the second date, you have no idea how bad I can get.”

“Oh? Should I be worried about the true Sherlock Holmes?”

Sherlock shook his head. “He’s just like the regular one, just more of an arse.”

John scoffed, shaking his head. “Can’t wait.”

After they finished eating, they grabbed their glasses and the bottle of wine and settled on the sofa. John had his legs stretched out over Sherlock’s lap, relaxing as their conversation carried on and the wine kept getting poured.

“Alright,” Sherlock said, changing the subject as John laughed about him and his embarrassing party story from university. “It’s not that funny.”

“It’s pretty funny,” John took another swig of his wine. “I promise I won’t bring it up.”

“I feel like you’re lying.”

John gave a shrug. “We did finish that bottle so there’s a lot going on in my head right now.”

Sherlock chuckled. “We’re you serious this morning.”

“About what?”

“Us. And being together at work.”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

John nodded. “I have been there for five years now, I have seen an old mate of mine get fired because one of the parents saw him out with his boyfriend one night. They don’t like people like us.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“You’re right, there’s not. It’s just the way these parents are.”  
“So I can’t kiss you good morning?”

“Afraid not, love. Not anywhere near the school. Or around anyone we know.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I know it is, but I like my job and would prefer to keep it. I’m sure you do too.”

“I would.”

“But any other time I wouldn’t mind snogging.”

“Oh?”

John took Sherlock’s wine glass from his hand and set it on the coffee table along with his. He then stood up, looking down at sherlock before straddling his lap, kissing him deeply. Sherlock kissed back, his hands falling to the smaller man’s hips as he attempted to pull him closer.


	4. Chapter 4

“What do you want to do Saturday?” Sherlock asked, looking at John who sat on the other side of his desk.

John took another bite of his lunch, pushing the container of chicken and rice over to Sherlock to finish. “How about you make me dinner?”

“Not sure it will turn out well.” 

“Could you at least try?” 

“I suppose for you I can.” 

John gave him a smile, watching Sherlock devour the last of his lunch. He started bringing more because Sherlock always took what John was eating and started to eat whatever he brought. It was like Sherlock never ate at home and only ate what John brought.

The sound of the door closing caught both the teacher’s attention. They both got up and walked out of Sherlock’s office to see three students smiling at them.

“What are you three doing? You’re supposed to be at lunch.” Sherlock said.

“Mr. Lestrade said we could come and practice,” the boy in the middle spoke. “Since we have the showcase soon and all.”

“You have two weeks and plenty of time at home.”

John looked at Sherlock, giving him that look.

“What?” Sherlock asked softly.

“They came here to ask for help. So help them.”

Sherlock turned to the students. “Do you need help with your music?”

The three nodded their heads.

“Alright, go set up.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” the boy spoke. The three set their things down then hurried to the wall where all the instruments were.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yea?” John asked.

“Or tonight.”

“You have rehearsal.”

Sherlock sighed, “Tomorrow then.” 

John gave him a smile, telling him to go help his students before going back into Sherlock’s office and packing up his lunch box. He watched Sherlock speak with his students for a bit, saying something that all made them laugh. Sherlock looked at John and gave him a wink, making John flustered. The English teacher left the music room, heading for his classroom.

At the end of the day, John sat at his desk, organizing the papers he had graded and the ones he had left to grade. He heard a knock at his door and expected it to be Sherlock or Irene, but it was the history teacher, Jim Moriarty. The two never talked unless Jim needed John to proofread an article he was submitting. 

“Can I help you?” John asked.

“Not exactly.”

“So then why are you here?”

“I heard some whispers today about you and someone else,” Jim started walking around the classroom.

“Really? Who?”

Jim turned to John, “You and Holmes.”

“We’re just friends. Everyone knows that.”

“But you’re close with him, don’t you think?”

John shook his head. “Not at all. No.”

“Well, just be careful, Johnny. It was a shame about our dear friend Ollie, wasn’t it?”

John stood up, “Please, Jim, see yourself out.”

“Of course,” Jim gave John a taunting smile, “Just watch you back John. You can’t hide forever. Ta!” he turned on his heels, making a b-line for the door.

John took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from panicking. He grabbed his satchel off the back of his chair, shoving all the papers on his desk in it, not worrying about if they were graded or not. He put his coat on quickly, putting his satchel on and hurrying out of his classroom. The idea of Jim lurking around the corner, ready to follow John was stuck in his head, making him even more on edge than he needed to be.

Irene opened the flat to her door, “I heard you when you knocked the first time.” 

John pushed past her, trying to calm himself down. “I’m in trouble.”

“You? In trouble? That’s hard to believe.”

“It’s serious, Irene!” he exclaimed.

“Woah, calm down.” Irene directed John to the sofa. “What happened?”

“Jim. He knows about Sherlock and me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He told me to watch my back. You know he always knows everyone’s business.” 

“He’s not that threatening, John. You can relax.”

“But I can’t. He brought up Ollie. We know he was the reason behind him getting fired.”

“John, take a deep breath.”

John took a deep breath, looking at Irene who was sitting on the coffee table. 

“Look, you and Sherlock are already careful enough in school and public. It’ll be alright.”

“How do you know that?” 

Irene sighed, standing up. “If you want to freak yourself out, go ahead. But it’s not going to help anything, especially your relationship with Sherlock. I’m not the best at giving pep talks and you know that.” she walked into the kitchen, “What you need to do is talk about it with Sherlock. It’s you and him, and he is way better at talking you down because I always make it worse for you and-”

“Okay, I get it,” John said, cutting Irene off.

Irene walked back into the living room with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She sat next to John, setting the glasses on the coffee table. “I’m going to pour you a drink and then you are going to work on the papers you have stuffed in your bag and relax because you’re weird and doing work makes you happy.”

John took off his satchel, setting it beside him then taking off his coat. He took the glass of wine, taking a large swig before setting it down and taking out the papers from his satchel, relaxing into the sofa as his mind drifted away from the panicking.

Sherlock walked up to his flat, setting his violin by the door and taking off his coat, being shocked when he turned to see John sitting on his sofa. “What’re you doing here?” he asked.

John stood up, “You’re landlady let me in. She’s very nice, made me tea.” 

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Jim knows.”

“Knows what?”

“About us.” 

Sherlock furrowed his brows. “I’m not understanding what you’re trying to say.”

“He came into my classroom today and told me he knew about us being together and told me to watch my back. Then he brought up what happened to Ollie. We could lose our jobs. They would chase us out just like they did to Ollie.”

Sherlock walked over to John, pulling him into a hug. “That’s not going to happen. You know why?”

“No,” John said muffled.

“Because Jim is an arse that no one likes and Lestrade knows us. He’s not like headmaster Wilkes. He won’t just fire you or me because we’re dating.”

“But what if it does happen?”

Sherlock cupped John’s face, taking his face out of his chest. “Because Lestrade hates Jim. And Lestrade is also dating my brother and won’t fire us just because we’re dating.”

“Wait. Seriously?”

Sherlock nodded. “That stays between us though. No telling Irene.”

“I won’t. You’re positive he won’t fire us?”

“He won’t. I promise, love.” 

John took a deep breath, pressing his face in the crook of Sherlock’s neck. 

“How about we talk with him tomorrow? See what he has to say about us.”

“I suppose we could do that. Maybe it’ll make me feel better.” 

“Maybe.” Sherlock gently raked a hand up and down the smaller man’s back, feeling his body become less tense. “I thought it was too late for you to come by.” 

John flicked Sherlock’s side. “Shut up. I was freaking out and Irene wasn’t making it better.” 

Sherlock chuckled, placing a kiss on the side of his head. “Do you want to stay the night? Since you’re here and all.”

“No. I don’t have any of my things.” 

“You could have some of mine.” 

John looked up at Sherlock. “I will stay Saturday night, alright?”

“Not sure I can last that long.” 

“You can. You’re making dinner and then after dinner, we’ll do whatever you want.”

“Really?” Sherlock smirked. 

“Really. So you better make something delicious. I want to be satisfied Saturday night.” 

“Trust me. You will.” 

John rolled onto his toes, giving Sherlock a kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Yea?” 

“Yea.” 

John gave Sherlock a wink before leaving his flat.


	5. Chapter 5

John and Sherlock walked into the office, being greeted by the receptionist, Molly. She was always so peppy, Sherlock hates it, always complains about the sound of her voice, and insults her outfits, saying she reminds him of his grandmother.

“Hi Molly,” John smiled. “Is Greg in?” 

“Yes. Let me see if he’s off the phone first.” She stood up, going to the door beside her desk and walking in. 

“She’s been crying again. Most likely her recent boyfriend.” Sherlock said softly. 

John shook his head. “Don’t say anything to her.” 

“I know, I’m saying it to you.” 

“Why don’t we keep it to ourselves for right now? Yea? I have a lot of other things to be thinking about.” 

“Sorry,” Sherlock said, turning the other way and looking around the office. 

Molly came back out before John could apologize to Sherlock. “He’s ready for you two,” she smiled. 

John looked at Sherlock, but he was still focused on something else. He sighed and walked past Molly, into the office, feeling Sherlock behind him. 

“Nice to see you two,” Greg smiled. “What can I do for you?” 

John sat in the chair in front of Greg’s desk while Sherlock remained standing. “We have to discuss something with you,” John spoke, looking at Sherlock. 

“And what would that be?” 

“John and I have been involved in a romantic relationship for the past two weeks,” Sherlock said, taking a seat next to John. 

“And?” Greg asked. 

“John is scared we are going to get fired because we enjoy the company of each other.”

“You didn’t have to put it like that.” John looked at Sherlock. 

“I’m just being forward about it,” Sherlock said a bit harshly, looking at John. 

John took a deep breath, turning his attention to Greg. “All I want to know is that nothing bad will happen to us. You remember Ollie, right? What happened to him was under Wilkes and I’m just hoping that it’ll be different since you’re headmaster now.” 

“Look, I’m perfectly fine with it,” Greg said. “I assume you know about Sherlock’s brother and I, so to be frank, I don’t give a shit. The board is what you should be worried about. I have no control over them, but they do have control over me, so what they say goes. And if they find out that you two are dating there could be a result of termination.” 

“Jesus Christ,” John muttered. 

Sherlock reached over to John, holding his hand. “So what should we do?” he asked Greg. 

“Keep it on the low. That’s all I can tell you. I can only protect you unless they have actual evidence that you are together.”

“Thanks,” John gave Greg a weak smile before getting up and leaving his office. 

“Maybe talk Mycroft into blackmailing the board for us too. It would really help.” Sherlock said to Greg before getting up and leaving. He walked swiftly to the English teacher’s classroom, noticing the door was closed. Sherlock took a moment, staring at the door and debating whether to knock or not. He felt someone’s eyes on him so he turned to see Jim standing at the end of the corridor, his arms folded across his chest and that stupid smirk that Sherlock wished he could slap off his face. 

With a swift knock, Sherlock turned the knob and opened the door, ducking into the classroom, closing the door behind himself. “I know you're upset with me, but Jim is walking down the hall and about to come in here.” 

John looked up at Sherlock then heard the knock. “Come in,” he spoke. 

Jim popped his head in. “Just seeing what is going on. Anything interesting?” 

John shook his head. “Mr. Holmes and I were just about to discuss a student who has to stay a bit after to complete some work and will be late for rehearsal. Nothing of your concern.” 

Jim chuckled, “Alright then. I’ll be off.” he stepped out of the room, leaving the door open. 

Sherlock poked his head out the door to make sure Jim was around the corner before closing the door. “I swear, John, I will do everything in my power to make sure that neither of us will lose our jobs. Or let our relationship out.” 

John sighed, tapping his pen against the desk. “I know you will, Sherlock. I’m not worried about you, I'm worried about Jim. Every time I go somewhere I always feel him behind me and half the time he is. He’s trying, and he’s going to get what he wants. Just like he always does.” 

“We’ll figure this out. Alright?” Sherlock asked. “Just sick Irene on him, she’ll take care of him.”

John smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, yea?” 

“Too bad I can’t snog you senseless right now. You look so adorable.” 

John’s face turned pink, “Go on. You have rehearsal soon.” 

“Absolutely adorable.” Sherlock gave John a wink before leaving his room. 

Irene handed John his mug of tea before sitting down on the other end of the sofa with her glass of wine. “So, how are you and Holmes? Have you two shagged yet?” 

“Why is that always the first thing you ask?” John took a swig of his tea.

“Have you?” 

“No, we haven’t. Stop asking. It’s weird.” 

“Okay, fine. Why aren’t you with him? You two are always together after school.” 

“I told you he has rehearsal. Do you even listen to me anymore?”

“I usually tune you out when you start talking about how romantic Sherlock is to you.” 

“But yet you’re so interested in if we’ve had sex or not?” 

“Because that’s what I want to hear.” 

John sighed into his mug, “Christ.” 

Irene took a swig of her wine. “Rehearsal for what anyways?”

“It’s a fundraiser his students ask him to do. The money they raise from selling tickets goes to donations to buy presents for the kids that don’t get a Christmas. A few of his students are also performing and he helps them after school since he can’t during class.”

“That’s actually really sweet of him. I didn’t know Holmes had a soft bone in his body.”

John smiled, feeling proud of Sherlock. “He has one when he wants it.”

“Look at you,” Irene teased. “Hopelessly in love.” 

John’s cheeks turned red. He brought his tea up to his lips, muttering something as he took a sip. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“Nothing,” John shrugged, he turned away.

“Did you talk with Greg today?”

“Yea. He said he can keep us safe from the board unless there’s actual evidence that Sherlock and I are together.”

“That’s great.”

“It is, but Sherlock’s a physical touch kind of person.”

“You have to set some rules for him.”

“I did. He just always wants to be close. I love that, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want it to ruin our careers.”

“Be more serious with him. I know you’re trying to take it slow and easy because you don’t want to mess your relationship up, but sometimes you have to take that step.”

John sighed. “I’m not good with that stuff.”

“Do you want me to do it?”

“No, you’ll make it worse.” John set his mug on the coffee table. “I’ll skip on dinner tonight,” he stood up, “I gotta sit on this and think of what I’m going to say.”

“You do you, Johnny.”

John picked up a throw pillow, tossing it at Irene. “I hate it when you call me that.”

“You almost made me spill my wine!”

“That’s what you get.” John made his way to her front door. 

Irene threw the pillow back at him.  
John turned to her, picking up the pillow. “I would throw it back, but I know how much you love your imported sofa.” he walked back over to Irene, setting the pillow back where he got it.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t call me Johnny anymore either. I hate it.”

“We’ll see.”

John rolled his eyes, heading for the front door, grabbing his coat and leaving. He thought about how he could say something to Sherlock about not being so physical, but John thought it was too harsh. Sherlock was his own person and John didn’t want to upset him. He would leave it be for now and if he needed to, he would say something.


	6. Chapter 6

The panic set in for Sherlock once Mrs. Hudson left him alone in the kitchen while she went downstairs to do something he didn’t remember her saying. He looked at the covered pot on the stove, feeling the anxiety of messing up the dinner for him and John set in. 

“Mrs. Hudson!” he shouted down the steps before quickly going back to the stove to stare. 

Mrs. Hudson’s heels clacked their way up the stairs. “What is wrong?” she walked over to the man hunched over the stove. 

“What am I supposed to do?” 

“Let it simmer.” 

“Why?” 

“It brings out the flavor.” 

“How long? You didn’t set a timer.” Sherlock’s focus was still on the pan. 

“I did,” she gestured to her hand timer that sat next to the stove. 

“Two hours?” Sherlock looked at Mrs. Hudson. “I have to watch it for two hours?” 

Mrs. Hudson chuckled, “No, you just have to let it simmer. It’s on a low setting and it’ll be perfectly fine. What you really need to worry about, is getting ready before John gets here.” 

“So I don’t have to touch it?” 

“No. Just leave it alone. I will take care of it when I bring the biscuits up.” 

Sherlock gave his landlady a smile. “You’re a lifesaver, Huddders. What would I do without you?”

“Burn the flat down. Go on and get ready, I know how long it takes you.” She said to Sherlock before hurrying off. 

Sherlock looked at the pan on the stove once more before going to his bedroom to pick out what he was going to wear, forgetting he was wearing Mrs. Hudson’s “kiss the cook” apron. He took it off and tossed it in his laundry hamper, thinking about how John would’ve gotten a kick out of him wearing it. 

Once Sherlock was ready, he went to the kitchen to check on the sauce, seeing Mrs. Hudson stirring it a bit. “Is it ready?” he asked. 

Mrs. Hudson shook her head. “Thirty more minutes.” she cover the pan then turned to Sherlock, smiling at him, “Look how handsome you are!” 

Sherlock chuckled. “Thank you, Hudders.”

Mrs. Hudson stepped over to him, straightening out the wrinkles of his jumper. He decided to wear something out of his comfort zone, it was a grey turtleneck jumper. It hung in his wardrobe for years and he thought it would be a nice choice for John to see him in instead of another one of his regular button ups. 

“When will he be here?” 

“Seven. Right when dinner will be ready.” 

“When the timer goes off, just take the pan off the burner and it’ll be alright there until you and John are ready to eat.” 

“So I don’t need to do anything else?” 

Mrs. Hudson shook her head. “I also put some ice cream in the freezer just in case.” 

“You’re a blessing, Mrs. Hudson.” 

“Thank you, dear. Remember, I live right downstairs so nothing too loud, understand?” 

Sherlock turned red. “What d’you mean?” 

“You know what I mean. I’ll leave you be before I say something else to stir you up.” 

Sherlock cleared his throat, watching Mrs. Hudson leave his flat, listening to her heels click down the stairs. 

A few minutes after seven was when John arrived. He smiled at Sherlock when the door opened and Sherlock felt his knees go weak. That smile. That stupid smile that John gave him all the time that made Sherlock lose control. Sherlock stepped to the side, letting John in and closing the door. 

“Dinner is ready,” Sherlock said, heading for the stairs before John stopped him. “What?” 

John pulled Sherlock closer, kissing him. He pulled away, looking up at the flushed music teacher. “I like the jumper,” John smoothed his hands over Sherlock’s biceps. 

“Thanks.” Sherlock cleared his throat again, trying hard to think of something to say but John was smiling at him and he looked so adorable standing there in his cream colored jumper and his tousled hair from wearing the beanie he clutched in his hand. 

“Are you there?” John asked. 

Sherlock nodded. “Yea. Yes. Hungry?” 

“So you did make dinner?”

“I had help from Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock started up the stairs, John following behind him. 

“It smells good,” John spoke when he walked into the flat. 

“It’s spaghetti bolognese.” 

John set his overnight bag down, “Did you really make it?” he asked as he took his coat off. 

“Yes I did. You asked me to make you dinner so I made you dinner.” he took John’s coat, hanging it up. He watched John run a hand through his hair, smoothing it out. 

“Good, I’m starving.” 

Sherlock directed John to the kitchen, pulling a chair out for him, pushing him in once he sat down.

John watched Sherlock serve him a plate of dinner then pour him a glass of wine before he sat down across from him. He waited for Sherlock to get settled before taking a first bite, being amazed at the taste. 

“This is delicious,” John spoke. “Did you really make this?” 

Sherlock chuckled, “I already told you.” 

“This is way better than anything I have ever made. You have to start making dinner more often.” John took another bite. 

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” Sherlock smiled. 

After dinner, Sherlock cleaned up a bit as John wondered about his flat, scanning over his bookshelf, sipping on the glass of wine in his hand. Sherlock watched him from the kitchen, if there was a book that caught his attention he would remove it from the shelf and flip through the pages before putting it back where he got it. There was one book that caught John’s eye, he turned to Sherlock, holding it up as he smiled. 

“Poe’s detective stories? Really?” 

Sherlock turned the sink off, drying his hands before walking over to John, taking the book from John. “There is nothing wrong with detective stories.”

“But you don’t strike me as the kind that would find pleasure in reading this.” 

“I like a bit of mystery.” He looked down at the book in his hands, “And my mum would read them to me at night when I was young.” 

“Did you want to be a detective?” 

“At one point, but I preferred music.” Sherlock tucked the book back in its spot. He looked at John who was grinning up at him. “What?” 

“I’m thinking what you would’ve been like as a detective. Running through the streets of London, catching the bad guys.”

“It would’ve been fun, but I’m glad I didn’t choose that path though.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“I wouldn’t have ever met you.” 

“God, Sherlock.” 

Sherlock furrowed his brows, “What?” 

“How are you so bloody perfect? How do you know how to say the right thing to make me completely shut down?” 

“It’s just natural.” 

John shook his head. “I don't buy it.” 

Sherlock chuckled, “It’s true.” he removed the wine glass from John’s hand, placing it on a bookshelf before pulling the smaller man closer by the belt loops on his jeans. “Just being around you makes me say things I didn’t know I was able to say around someone. I never thought I could feel this close with some or be so open, but with you, with you I just say what feels natural.” 

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s neck, smiling at him. “You make me so bloody happy, you know that?”

“You do the same for me.” 

John cupped Sherlock’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. “All my life I never thought I could be this happy with someone,” he said softly, his hand cupping Sherlock’s cheek. “But here you are, a gorgeous bastard that makes my heart skip everytime I lay eyes on him.” 

Sherlock chuckled softly, pressing his lips against John’s. “You do the same for me. The little smile you give to me when you look at me, your laugh, how you roll your eyes at me when I say something stupid.”

John huffed out a laugh, “Alright, that’s enough. I feel like I’m overheating.” 

“There’s plenty more.” 

“Keep it to yourself for now, yea? I might break out in a sweat with this jumper on.” John released himself from Sherlock’s hold, taking a seat in the red chair behind him. 

“Tea or more wine?” Sherlock asked, making his way back into the kitchen. 

“Tea would be nice. Did Mrs. Hudson make any biscuits?”

“None for you.” 

“Hmm, I’m sure. You do have quite the sweet tooth.” 

Sherlock smiled to himself as he opened the tin of biscuits, taking them to John. He kissed his cheek as he snagged one, “Save some for later.” 

“With her baking, I highly doubt it.” 

Once the tea was drunk and only a few biscuits remained, the two changed into their pajamas and settled in bed. John knew that Sherlock didn’t sleep much at night so he tried to stay up until Sherlock was ready to fall asleep, but it didn’t last long. John felt drained from the week and was out like a light as soon as Sherlock lay next to him. Sherlock embraced John, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he closed his eyes and relaxed, feeling himself slowly drifting into sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

John stood awkwardly backstage as he waited for Sherlock. His hands were starting to get sweaty as he got nervous. There were plenty of people around him and at any moment Sherlock could come to him and kiss him and someone would see then tell. He shoved his hands into his pockets, blowing out a stream of air as he looked around, still no Sherlock. 

“Mr. Watson!” 

John turned to see two of his students running over to him. He smiled, “You two did amazing up there!” 

“Thanks. Ben chose the piece,” one of the boys said. 

“Mr. Holmes recommended I listen to it,” Ben said. “He said he already had the sheet music and thought it was a perfect level for us to play.” 

“Well, you two perform beautifully together,” John beamed down at the two. 

They both smiled. 

“Why are you here?” Ben asked. “Did Mr. Holmes invite you?” 

John nodded. “Yes, he did.” 

“I heard from Emily that Nick said that you and Mr. Holmes are dating.” the other boy said. 

John felt his face become hot. “Charlie, you can’t believe everything you hear. Mr. Holmes and I are just friends, that’s all.” 

“What about me?” Sherlock asked from behind John. 

“That you’re dating Mr. Watson,” Charlie said again. 

“I have no idea where you would get that idea. I’m sure Mr. Watson has already told you that we are just friends. Don’t believe rumors, they’re rumors for a reason.” Sherlock looked down at the boy, Charlie’s face becoming red as a tomato. 

“Yes, Mr. Holmes. Sorry ‘bout that.” 

“It’s alright. Now, I finished speaking to your parents and they’re waiting for both of you.” 

“Bye, Mr. Holmes. Bye, Mr. Watson.” Charlie said before running off, Ben chasing after him. 

John sighed, turning to Sherlock. “You were absolutely beautiful up there,” he smiled. “You were right, it was worth it waiting to hear it.” 

“Thank you. Some of the inspiration came from a special someone. More like all of the inspiration.”

John was at a loss for words. He just stared at the man smiling down at him, trying not to think about how his suit framed his body perfectly and how he looked in a tie. What John wouldn’t do to pull Sherlock down by his tie and give him a proper congratulations. 

“I- uhh, I made us reservations. For dinner. Dinner Reservations.” 

Sherlock chuckled. “You are absolutely edible, John Watson,” he said softly. “You have no idea how bad I want to have you right here.” 

“Oh my god.” John inhaled deeply, trying to calm his nerves. “Are you ready?” 

Sherlock gave a nod. 

“Okay,” John turned on his heels, heading for the exit. 

John chose a restaurant that far from the school and far from where the concert was held, knowing that there would be plenty of flirting going on between him and his “friend” that would catch the eye of innocent student families trying to enjoy dinner. There was more than plenty of flirting, Sherlock took charge, acting like the smug bastard he was, but once dessert was brought out, it was John's turn to take over. He teased Sherlock as he ate, bringing the spoon to his mouth slowly and closing his eyes as he closed his mouth around it, making a soft noise as he consumed the chocolate mousse. It wasn’t even a minute before Sherlock asked the check, paying as fast as he could and dragging John out of the restaurant. 

Once they were outside, Sherlock pulled John to him, kissing him. “You have no idea what I want to do to you,” Sherlock held John close. 

“Do it. Please.” 

Sherlock made a strained noise before he kissed John again, pulling away only to hail a cab. 

Arriving at Sherlock’s flat was blurred for John. Sherlock had him pinned to the wall in the foyer, kissing and licking any exposed skin he could reach until he pulled John up to his flat, pinning him against the closed door and removing his coat along with his jumper, leaving his vest. 

“Sherlock,” John put his hand against the other man’s chest, pushing him back a little bit. 

“What? Did I do something to hurt you?” 

John shook his head. “No, not at all. It’s just, I want to savor this. You know?” 

“Yea,” Sherlock nodded. He shrugged off his own coat, dropping it on the floor with John’s before going back into the kiss, keeping it slow and calm as he pulled John off the wall and directed him to the bedroom. 

In the morning John woke up to Sherlock sitting up with his laptop in his lap, focused on whatever he was doing. John stretched his arms above his head before turning on his side and looking at Sherlock who was now staring at him. 

“How much convincing would it take for you to stay the night more often? I want to wake up to this every morning.” 

John chuckled. “As much as I would love that too, it would be suspicious if we were both coming from the same direction for work in the morning when we live opposite of each other.” 

“A load of bullshit.” He closed his laptop, leaning over the edge of the bed and setting it on the floor. He then lay on his side, admiring the sleeping beauty before him. It never came across Sherlock’s mind that he would crave the touch and feel of John at night like a drug. Since their first night together, Sherlock had even more trouble falling asleep, but on the weekends, he would sleep just fine with John in his arms. 

“You’re staring,” John spoke softly. 

“I can’t help it.” 

“I’m disgusting.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Sherlock scooted closer to John. 

“I need to brush my teeth before you kiss me.” 

“Who said I was going to kiss you?” 

John rolled his eyes, sitting up but he was instantly pulled back down by Sherlock, landing on his chest and keeping him there. “Sherlock,” he warned. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” 

“Are you going to hold me hostage?” 

“I’ll think about it.”

“Eggs and toast. Now can I please brush my teeth?” 

Sherlock pressed a kiss to John’s cheek before letting him go, watching him get out of bed.

“I can feel your eyes on me,” John said and turned around as he pulled his jumper over his head. 

“Can’t help it. The view is amazing.” 

“Not too bad yourself.” John dug through his overnight bag, pulling out his pajama bottoms and his toothbrush. “Some coffee would be nice too,” he spoke as he walked into the en suite. 

Sherlock’s eyes followed the man, he couldn’t help himself, he wasn’t wearing any pants and the jumper only covered so much.


	8. Chapter 8

It was Thursday afternoon. John had stayed a bit later to get caught up on grading tests so he could get them back to everyone and he wouldn’t have to worry about it later because he had plans with Sherlock. He was heading out of the building when Greg stopped him outside of the office. 

“Heading out?” Greg asked. 

John stopped and looked at Greg. “Yea, Sherlock’s making dinner tonight.” 

“Can that wait a bit? I’ve got something I need to talk to you about.” 

John nodded, following Greg into his office, pulling out his phone and sending Sherlock a quick text, telling him to expect him later. He took off his satchel and sat down in one of the chairs opposite of Greg’s desk. 

“I’m going to get straight to the point and you’re not going to like it,” Greg started, “On Friday a picture was taken of you and Sherlock kissing outside a restaurant and then Monday, the board received it from who they are saying is anonymous, but I know it was Jim.”

John felt his stomach drop. He sighed and closed his eyes, the rage building up inside of him but he couldn’t lash out on Greg, the poor man was just the messenger. 

“I tried to stop them. I’ve been in meetings with them all week, but Jim is threatening to send it to parents and once he does that it’s over for the board.”

“So what’s going to happen?” 

“I’m sorry, John. I really am.” 

“Just me? Not Sherlock?” 

Greg nodded. “They said you have until holiday starts.”

“A week? How the hell am I supposed to get a job that soon?” 

“The board prepared a position for you,” Greg handed John a few papers stapled together. “It’s a university in America. They’re willing to bring you in to teach a creative nonfiction writing course if you want it.”

John just stared at the paper. “Can I talk to you about this tomorrow?” 

“Yea. Of course. They just need an answer by Monday.”

John grabbed his satchel and stormed out of Greg’s office, leaving the school in a fit of rage as he tried his best not to hunt down Jim and give him a friendly thanks. Six years of teaching at one of the best schools John has ever been at and his career was ruined because of his preference in a sexual partner and a psychotic coworker who got off on seeing people's lives get ruined. 

When he arrived at Sherlock’s, he went straight up to the flat and felt bad about ruining an evening with him, but he was too pissed off to be around anyone. He just wanted to go home and set a book on fire or something to release his anger. 

“Hey,” Sherlock greeted. “It’s almost done. Timer says thirty more minutes.” he set the spoon he was using to mix something down and turned to face John who was still standing on the landing. “Everything alright?” 

“After next week I won’t be teaching anymore.” 

“What?” 

“They fired me.” 

Sherlock walked around the table and to John, reaching out for him but John stepped back. “Why?”

“Jim took a picture of us on Friday after the event at the restaurant and sent it to the board. I’m gonna go home, I just want to be alone right now to process and think about this and what the hell I’m going to do. I’ll see you tomorrow.” John turned on his heels and left as quickly as he could so Sherlock couldn’t try and stop him or say anything else.

When John got to his own flat, he leaned against the door and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the ground. He pulled the papers he shoved into his satchel, flattening the wrinkles out as he read about the position at the university. There was no way he was going to pack up his life here and move halfway across the country, but there was also no way he was going to find a teaching job here on such short notice. The best option for him would be working retail and that was hell when he was going through school and he sure didn’t want to go through it again. 

John sighed and pulled out his phone, sending Irene a text to come over as soon as she could. He pulled himself off the floor and made it as far as the sofa before falling down on it, looking at the text Sherlock had sent. 

I will try everything in power for you not to lose your job over us. 

John dropped his phone on the floor and pressed his face into the cushion of his sofa, screaming into it, causing the dog next door to start barking. 

In the morning, John went to work earlier than he usually did so he could talk with Greg. He was going to be calm and respectful unlike Sherlock who shouted abuse at Greg over something he had no control in. 

“Sorry about Sherlock last night. I wasn’t with him so I had no control over his actions,” John spoke as he walked into Greg’s office. 

“It’s alright. I prepared myself after you left, knowing what was going to happen.” 

John sat down and looked at Greg. “So what’s going to happen now?” 

“The board is coming at ten to have a meeting with you about the process of your termination and America, if you want the job, then they’ll have you sign some papers and then be on their way.” 

“Who is going to cover my class?” 

“I will.”

John scoffed. “Have fun with them. You may be headmaster, but they’re ruthless.” he stood. 

Greg laughed lightly. “I am truly sorry, John. You’re one of the best teachers we have here, the kids love you and so do their parents.” 

“It’s alright. Some things just aren’t meant to last forever.” he flashed Greg a weak smile before heading out of his office, greeting Molly who was settling in for the day then headed to his classroom. 

He stood in the doorway and looked over his room, a wave of sadness running over him. Six years in the classroom. The walls were covered in posters of some of his favorite book covers, drawings the kids made him, in the corner sat a reading book equipped with two bean bags and books that John didn’t have room for in his flat. Every inch over the room was a good memory with his students. He could name every student he’s ever had and tell you something about them. 

John sniffled, holding the tears back as he headed for his desk that sat in the back corner, taking off his satchel and coat, sitting down. Next week the room would be bare. No memories of the past six years will be left. 

A soft knock pulled John out of his trance. He looked up and saw Sherlock standing at the door with a cup of coffee and a tupperware container. “Can I come in?” 

John nodded, getting his mind on track again. 

“I brought you coffee and a bit of what was supposed to be dinner last night for lunch. Shepherds pie.” he set both items in front of John.

“Thanks,” John smiled. 

“Also if you want it, Mrs. Hudson helped me bake a swiss roll.” he reached into his bag and pulled out a small log wrapped in cloth. 

John smiled, “I appreciate it.” he took it from Sherlock, setting it with the pie and coffee. 

“I’ll be in my room during lunch if you want to join.” Sherlock took a step back from John’s desk, waiting for him to say something, but he continued to stare at nothing. He turned and made a b-line for the door, being stopped before he could make it out. 

John had grabbed him by the elbow and pushed his door closed before pulling Sherlock into an embrace, burying his face into the crook of the taller man’s neck, trying his best to hold back the tears. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s shoulder, kissing the side of his head. 

After a few minutes, John let go and looked up at Sherlock. “I’ll see you at lunch.” he gave Sherlock a kiss on the cheek before turning and heading back to his desk. 

Sherlock watched him sit down before opening the door and leaving for his own classroom. 

Once the first class of the day got settled in, John walked up to the front of the room, closing the door and greeting everyone like he always did. 

“You seem upset, Mr. Watson,” one of his students spoke up. 

“Well, Claire, I have some news.” all of the students stopped their side conversations and put their attention on their teacher. Mr. Watson was always in a good mood, they could tell something was off. “After holiday, I will no longer be teaching here at this school. You all will have a new teacher.” 

The class remained calm, exchanging worried looks between each other. 

“Hows come?” a student asked. 

“Mr. Holmes and I have been in a relationship for a while now, and the school doesn’t like that we’re together.” 

“But what about Mr. Johnson and Mrs. Johnson?” another student asked. 

“They’re straight, Peter. It doesn’t matter that they’re together.”

“Laura,” John warned the girl. 

“It’s ridiculous that just because of who ya fancy is why you can’t teach us anymore!” she seemed just about as pissed off as Sherlock did. The whole class agreed with her. “Can’t we sign a petition or somethin’?” 

“I know you are all upset and so am I, but we are going to continue our lessons for today and next week. No more talking about it, what’s said is said.” he started for his desk. “We’ll work on corrections from your quiz yesterday.” 

At lunch, John took what Sherlock brought him to the music classroom, finding Sherlock on the floor of his office with sheet music scattered around him. 

“What are you doing?” John asked, just wanting to sit down and eat. 

“An old piece I found in the music library. Trying to get all the parts together.” 

John sat down in the doorway, leaning against the door frame as he watched Sherlock. 

“How’d the meeting go?” 

“It was okay. I didn’t really listen to anything they had to say then I signed a few papers, one of which was so I wouldn’t sue them for firing me for being gay.” 

“I would’ve. They would’ve lost. I’m very good and tearing people apart and making them insecure.” 

John chuckled. He would have to tell Sherlock that he was offered a job in America and that he took it and will be moving there after Christmas. They were both in decent moods and he didn’t want to ruin it, plus he didn’t know how to approach the topic since both of them found it awkward to talk about the subject. 

“You’ve got that look on your face,” Sherlock spoke. 

John snapped out of his trance. “What look?” 

“You’re thinking about something serious and it’s nothing good.” 

“I’m thinking about a lot of things right now and it would be hard for it to be something positive.” 

Sherlock gave John a sad smile. “Eat your lunch, maybe it’ll make you feel better.” he looked down at the sheet music he had in his lap. 

John felt even worse, he was going to break Sherlock’s heart into two. He didn’t want Sherlock to hate him and he knew if he held it in, Sherlock would.


End file.
